Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Princess WHO of WHERE?!? ❯ Yes, Master Vegeta....NOT! ( Chapter 11 )

Hey everyone! Thanks for all new reviews. I hope everyone liked the idea of Bulma kicking Vegeta's butt! I thought he was about due a good physical beat down from her for a long time. I know she's normally smarter than he is in ordinary circumstances, but since there's no technology in my fic, that kind of only left one other thing that would count. I should've had her kick him in the nuts since he was such a big baby about losing. But anyway…….

Hope your ready cause here we go!!!!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own DBZ.

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Bulma spun away and went back to her tree. She swung back up into it and turned her head away from the men, showing disinterest. She hoped they thought she as acting that way because of Vegeta's sneaky, not to mention desperate, move. She `knew' he did it so he wouldn't lose face in front of his men, but her body was screaming a whole different story. She caught herself about to growl at the lurid thoughts swimming through her head. She was not going to let a moment's weakness overtake her good sense. She had to keep reminding herself that it was because of `HIM' and his father that she as here.

She almost couldn't believe that she almost beat him, but them it could've just been luck. Bulma was sure that he wasn't expecting such a high level of skill. She replayed the whole fight over and over thinking of things she could've done better or differently. And inevitably she'd come to the fight's end and get that funny feeling in her stomach again. She gritted her teeth, willing the thoughts and feelings away.

`Just think of the most disgusting thing you can imagine,' she told herself.

The only thing she could think of was cleaning latrines. When all of her bothers were still at home, it was a disgusting and tedious task. She wouldn't have wished that chore on her worst enemy.

`I'll bet Vegeta's never had to clean a latrine,' Bulma thought.

She almost giggled at the mental picture of the young Lord with his hair covered with a scarf, dressed in old, worn clothing, on his knees scrubbing a latrine.

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Vegeta watched the girl climb back into the tree and turn away to ignore any further combat training. He watched her soft curves even though he had just experienced her finely developed muscle.

His match with her was surprising. Never in his life would he have imagined a female capable of such skill. Vegeta had heard rumors of the fighting prowess of Kylarian females, but never had the opportunity to witness it.

He ran their match through his head, while still watching his men practice. He already knew he wanted to challenge her again, but first he would have to improve his speed. He wouldn't let her embarrass him twice, though he did get the last laugh.

For the second time he was able to feel her body pressed against his. He wasn't able to enjoy as much the first time, but during the second, it was hard to mask his pleasure. What pleased him even more was the scent of her budding arousal. She shut it down quick, but because he was so close, the scent filled his nostrils and his instincts urged his body to comply with her wishes. He halted his train of thought.

`What's coming over me? Is she using some sort of magic to ensnare me?' Vegeta quickly fell into the easiest emotion for him….anger. `How dare she try to attract me!' He thought, somewhat irrationally. `First, she beats me in front of my men, then she had the nerve to laugh and mock me about it!'

His temper was at its boiling point. His nails nearly cutting into his palms and he saw a faint haze of red.

"ENOUGH!" he yelled.

All the men stopped to stare at him in surprise, and all the anger suddenly drained away. He felt stupid for getting so worked up over a female.

"That's enough for today. You may now return to the fortress."

They all saluted Vegeta and immediately began changing into their natural forms. The menagerie that stood before Vegeta quickly dispersed, either running or flying away. In no time at all he was standing in the meadow alone. He looked to the young woman still in the tree.

`This battle isn't over yet.'

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Bulma had been dozing when the sounds of hooves, feet, and wings pushed her into complete alertness. She was sitting on the branch, feet dangling, when she heard the soft hiss of something passing through grass. She looked below to see Vegeta standing on the ground under her.

"We're leaving," he announced and with that, he walked off.

Bulma watched him for a moment, head cocked to the side wondering what kind of strange male she had gotten stuck with.

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They were back at the fortress in no time, since they returned the same way they left. Bulma decided to stay quiet and just follow Vegeta. She HAD already kicked his tail and bragged about it. Maybe a little silence was now in order.

They went through twisting and turning corridors and up flights of stairs until they came to what Bulma thought was a familiar looking door. Vegeta entered without knocking and as Bulma entered, she finally realized that they had returned to his rooms.

Vegeta stopped in the middle of the sitting room, with Bulma stopping immediately after. Already she was learning his habits.

"These are the tasks I have for you," he said. "First, help me out of this armor."

Bulma looked at him blankly. "But I don't know how."

"Don't be a fool! I know you don't, so I'm going to direct you until you learn it." The armor he had worn today was nothing more than simple chain mail. "Just release it here and her," he pointed, "and then pull it over my head, but remove my gauntlets first and it will make it a little easier." Vegeta held his hand out to her, wrist up.

Bulma saw that there were lacings along his wrist and she figured she was supposed to unlace them. She reached for them timidly and untied and began to loosen them. She looked up to Vegeta to make sure she was doing it right. He didn't say anything though, he just stared back at her. Taking that as a positive response, she continued and then finally pulled the gauntlet off by the fingertips.

She did the same with the other glove and looked for somewhere to lay them. Vegeta, sensing her problem, pointed to an alcove set into a window.

"You can put those under there," He walked over to the alcove and lifted the seat, revealing a storage space below. "Gauntlets, gloves, cloaks, capes, and the like are stored here."

Bulma nodded and put them inside, but it still looked to be enough room for at least two people to fit in. She closed it noting how well it blended in. No one would know it was there unless they were told. She looked back to him, expecting some sort of comment, but still he just stared back with an annoyed expression on his face.

`Oh, yeah. The armor,' she remembered, wondering how she had forgotten so quickly. She unhooked the armor where he had shown her earlier. He automatically held his arms out as she drew the mail over his head and down his arms. Bulma was amazed at the sill it must have taken to produce such a fine piece of armor. Each link was hardly bigger than the head of a nail. The time and effort it must have taken to produce it must have been immense. And most importantly, it was obviously made to fit Vegeta's measurements alone, which proclaimed to the wealth his Father must have.

"When you're finished drooling over it, you can bring it and hang it in here," he said walking into the next room. His bedroom.

Bulma swallowed hoping that he wasn't trying to lure her into his bed. But hadn't he already told her he wasn't interested? She threw her shoulders back and marched in fearlessly wondering what she'd see.

The room beyond was a lot neater that she had believed possible for a man to maintain. She knew well from her brothers what kind of slobs men could be. Not a thing here was out of place from the perfectly made be to the clean floors, obviously swept regularly, to the weapons hanging on the walls. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere to be seen.

"Hang it there," Vegeta ordered her, breaking her from her inspection. There was a form in the corner where he was pointing. Bulma went and placed the mail over it, feeling as if she were dressing an over grown, faceless doll.

"That'll be fine," he told her.

She turned to see Vegeta leaning carelessly against one of the bed posts, arms crossed, and full of nonchalance.

"Now what?" Bulma asked.

"Now," he began, straightening up and walking over to her, "I will give you the rest of your duties. First, you will keep my rooms neat. I don't like a lot of people I don't know coming and going in here. You will be the only one allowed in here from this day forward." With that he handed her a key. "Guard it well."

Bulma looked at him askance. He was starting to sound a little nutty, but then she thought of how she hated her family poking around in her room.

"Second, you will bring my meals here personally and have my bath ready every evening. I like my breakfast at sunrise and dinner shortly after sunset. I take my bath immediately after dinner. I don't expect you to bring my bath water on your own. Just stop any of the man servants you see and tell them that I told you to get them to help."

Bulma nodded after each, thinking that maybe it wouldn't be so difficult here after all.

"Your final tasks will be to care for my personal belongings, clothing, armor, weapons and to attend me whenever I require it."

"What am I supposed to do with your clothes? I'm not going to wash them myself!"

"I'm sure you're already familiar with the Laundresses," he said, which caused her to redden slightly. "Just take any soiled clothing to them in the morning and pick it up from them the following morning. They will take care of everything else."

Relieved at that, she was ready to accept her temporary servitude. She knew this wasn't going to be a permanent thing.

A knock at the outer door interrupted anything else further.

"WHAT?!?!" Vegeta yelled from the bedroom.

"A message, my lord, from your Father," a servants voice carried into the bedroom. Vegeta snarled in annoyance. He stalked to the outer door and threw it open.

"WHAT IS IT?" He continued to yell. Bulma couldn't understand why he was so annoyed, but the servant at the door appeared to expect this.

"He said that he wishes your presence immediately, or as soon as you are able," the manservant told him, peeking around Vegeta to see Bulma standing in the bedroom doorway.

Vegeta's growl became more audible. "Mind your own business! And tell my Father I will be with him shortly!" He slammed the door in the man's face and turned back to Bulma. His fury at the servant was nowhere in evidence on his face.

"I want you to begin cleaning that armor I showed you earlier. If you finish before I return, your time is yours, but I still expect my dinner and bath here after sunset."

Bulma looked at him incredulously. "I already told you that I wasn't going to clean it! There's no way I'll be able to, my arm will probably fall off before I clean a single speck!"

"So be it then. I'll just have a one-armed servant."

"Whatever. I'm not cleaning it." Bulma crossed her arms over her chest, clearing stating that that was her final decision.

"Fine, don't then. You won't eat a crumb until you do." He turned from her and slammed the door going out of room.

`I don't need him to eat and I'm sure not cleaning his damn armor.'

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Can I please have more reviews?????